


Wychlaran

by LaufeyOfThay



Series: Thayvian Tales [6]
Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23892739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaufeyOfThay/pseuds/LaufeyOfThay
Summary: Things take on a darker note, as Edwin gets to learn some of his teacher's past.
Series: Thayvian Tales [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717807
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

_The boy had been proud on the day they came for him. It had been three years since his particular talent was first noticed and he had done his utmost to develop it since then. They all kept telling him how special he was, how unique. How he would be able to benefit them all. The praise felt good, as did the admiration. He wanted more. And so he spent almost every waking moment at practice, constantly stretching his limits. There were others like him, true, but they were girls. Their training was mostly the same, but it was silently understood that they would use it in different ways. No one had said what he would do afterwards, but it had to be important. And as he performed the exercises over and over again he promised himself that he would make everybody proud._

The spellbook was a brand new one, its pages crisp and clean, its glossy black leather covers still unmarred by sticky fingerprints, scorch marks or spilt spell components. It even had that intoxicating smell unique to new books, the one that even the dullest of textbooks possesses before you are actually forced to open it. So far every single page was empty except for the first one. Childishly rounded letters painstakingly crawled across the page, accompanied by a few random ink blots.

' This Spellbook belongs to Edwin Odesseiron' it read. 'Odesseiron Mansion, 12 Newt Eye Road, Pyarados, Thay, Faerun, Toril, The Multiverse. If found, return to owner. If you try to steal it the owner will come to find you.' Below this ominous prediction there was a drawing of a monster that looked like a cross between a giant octopus, a hairless monkey and a sword spider. It was quite a good drawing. The eyes of the monster almost seemed to follow the reader around the room. If eyes they were. It was a bit hard to tell for sure. The writing beneath this hideous beast read ' Yrkpthuurllhr, the Eater of Souls and Punisher of Book-thieves'

Young Edwin Odesseiron thoughtfully chewed on the tip of his quill. The drawing still lacked that certain something, the final touch to make it perfect. Quickly he sketched in a few mutilated corpses sprawled at the many feet and suction cups of the monster. Yes. Much better. 

"Not bad", said a voice directly behind the boy. "Not bad at all. You have some natural talent." Edwin started and quickly turned around to see his teacher leaning over him. Vadrak Dekaras, the Odesseiron House assassin and tutor was a tall and lean man, perhaps in his early thirties, with sharp black eyes, and an overly long nose that made him resemble a watchful carrion-bird a little. A raven perhaps, or a crow. As always, his clothes were a solid and uniform midnight black, from his boots and leggings to his tunic and the ever-present black cloak with its myriad of hidden pockets. The effect this had was that his face seemed to be floating freely in mid air, since his body was almost totally invisible against the dark red of the curtain behind him.

"Yes", Dekaras repeated, a slightly sardonic grin on his face. "Quite a good effort. But there is something missing, I believe. May I?" Without waiting for a response, he took the quill and drew a very realistic wizard kneeling at the feet of the monster, an expression of utter horror on his face. "That", Dekaras said, "is to remind you never to use a high-level summoning spell without first taking care to be adequately protected. Had he drawn a correct pentagram he wouldn't currently be waiting to be eaten alive." 

"Will **I** get to summon real demons one day?", Edwin asked eagerly.

"That would depend on your ability to stay alive long enough and on your ability to master basic spells. Speaking of which…" The assassin produced a few spell scrolls from within his cloak and handed them to his pupil. "Your next assignment", he said. "These are all spells suitable for a beginner. Since your Mother gave you that spellbook I thought it fitting that you should also be able to use it for something other than a sketchbook." 

Edwin eagerly took the scrolls and leafed through them, his eyes glowing with anticipation. "This is so great!", he exclaimed. "Thank you, thank you so much!"

"Don't thank me yet, boy", the assassin said. "This is where I expect you to start doing some serious studying. You must be intimately familiar with each spell before you even attempt to copy it into your spellbook, or you will surely fail, and the scroll will be lost. And then you must memorize the proper incantations and gestures for the spell you wish to store in your memory and learn exactly how to open your mind to a spell. Expect a lot of hard work before you manage to cast your first one. These are basic spells, but still a lot harder than the cantrips we have been studying so far."

"I don't mind", Edwin gleefully said, almost bouncing up and down on his chair. "I'll show you! I'm going to be the greatest wizard in the whole world! When I've learnt these, then will you teach me how to conjure up demons?" 

Dekaras gave him a suspicious look. "Exactly why do you want to conjure a demon?", he asked.

"Well…to do my bidding I suppose. At least that's what all the stories say wizards use them for."

"I see. However, there will be no demonic assistance in regards to your homework. I suggest you get started with it without further delay. Silently."

Two hours later Edwin's hair was sticking wildly out in all possible directions, the result of much frustrated pulling. His hands and face were smeared with ink, but the spellbook remained as empty as before. "It won't work", the boy complained, not for the first time. "Why won't it work?" He was quite red in the face by now and almost in tears. The small piles of dust that covered the worktable were all that remained of the precious scrolls.

"You are too impatient", Dekaras calmly stated. "You will not be able to scribe the spells unless you properly understand them. And even then, the actual casting may very well be beyond you. Also, you try too hard. You must be calm before it will work, your mind focused on the spell alone."

"But I want to do magic now!", Edwin pouted. "I always have to wait for everything, and I'm tired of that. I want to be a Great Wizard!"

"And **I** want a great many things, none of which are likely to occur any time soon, if ever. Wishes and desires aside, we all must live in the here and now. Right now, that involves us going shopping for some more scrolls, and this time I think we'd better get three of each kind." 

It was already late afternoon when they reached their destination, 'Madam Morgana's Magical Emporium'. Madam Morgana herself was an elderly little old lady of a Red Wizard who handed Edwin a lollipop from the tin she kept on the counter as she wrapped up the new scrolls for him. The sweet went a long way towards improving the boy's mood, even if he still was disappointed in his earlier failure. He licked it cheerfully as he followed his tutor through the broad streets of the Inner City, now quite certain that his next efforts would be successful. By now the sun was beginning to set and the shadows were lengthening, minute by minute. As they entered the still and leafy darkness of Conquest Park Edwin found it more and more difficult to make out the dark shape of his teacher amidst the other shadows. Dekaras noticed this and slowed his pace, allowing the boy to catch up. And so it was that they were walking at a slow and deliberate pace when they came upon the two women, allowing them to spot them first, without being seen.

Two women were walking along the gravel path, both proud and regal looking. One was old, with snowy white hair that almost glowed in the dark. Heavy shadows obscured her deep-set eyes and firm mouth. The second woman was younger, dark of skin and hair, and obviously deferred to her elder. They were both dressed modestly, but not poorly, and they were conversing in whispers. A pace behind them walked a large man with a sheaved sword slung across his back. He scowled ferociously at the encroaching shadows, as if to dare any possible assailants to make themselves known. The muscles, the weaponry, the confident stride, all of them declared him a bodyguard.

Edwin watched them idly, much more intent on his lollipop than on these passing strangers, and so he was entirely unprepared for what happened next. Without further warning he suddenly found himself yanked off the path and behind a large rhododendron, his teacher's hand firmly clasped across his mouth while the other still held his shoulder in a death grip. Dekaras' entire body had gone rigid, and as he watched the two approaching women Edwin could feel the grasp on his shoulder tighten convulsively to the point where it was almost painful.

_Wychlaran!_ , the assassin uttered in an almost inaudible whisper, containing a strange mixture of hate, surprise and - apprehension? That slight hesitation scared Edwin more than any demon from the Nine Hells could have. He had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was it had to be bad if it could make his tutor react like this. 

"What have you been able to learn?", the older woman asked her companion.

"Not much, _Othlor_ ", the other admitted, her dark braids slipping across her shoulder as she shook her head. "Frankly, I do not believe there are any here. There would have been rumors, surely?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." The old woman paused, inspecting something on the ground. "But I know what is here. A _vremyonni_."

"That cannot be!" The dark-skinned woman's voice went louder with disbelief, her mouth forming a stunned 'O'. She immediately checked herself, respectfully lowering her eyes. "Forgive me, Othlor. I intended no disrespect."

"Your surprise is understandable, if impertinent. This is a rogue _vremyonni_. One who…refused. That in itself is extremely rare, almost unheard of. But this one also managed to…disappear. You may know this one better under another name."

The younger woman's voice shook as she answered, the whites of her widened eyes suddenly starkly visible against the midnight hues of her face. "Not the Wrai…" She fell silent at her companion's raised hand. The old woman was bending over now, picking something off the ground.

"That is the one, yes", she said. "So, you had better watch your tongue. But this time the predator will become the prey, chased from its secret den to meet justice at last. I have heard some interesting rumors during the time we have spent here…" She studied the object in her outstretched hand, and Edwin froze as he recognized his lollipop. He must have dropped it. "Interesting", the old woman said to herself. "Very interesting." She raised her head, and almost seemed to be sniffing the night air. "Perhaps…But no. Too many shadows about." She smiled, a small and secret smile, and walked off, her companions trailing along behind her.

"Who…who were they?", Edwin whispered as soon as he was certain that the strangers were no longer able to hear him.

Dekaras did not answer immediately. His stance shifted subtly, like a snake coiling itself to strike. "Trouble", he said, his voice grim. "Serious trouble." He was still staring at the path where the two women had disappeared. "Much as I should like to determine their whereabouts", he murmured, seemingly oblivious of Edwin's presence, "that will have to wait. It would be unwise to rush into anything without proper preparation unless absolutely necessary." He gave Edwin a sharp look. "We must get you home at once", he said. "Your Mother will be getting worried."

The rest of the walk home was an uncomfortable affair. Dekaras kept scanning the surroundings, staring intently at every shadow as if he expected something to leap out them at any moment. When Edwin asked what he was looking for the assassin curtly told him to be silent and not attract unwanted attention. Edwin walked in silence after that, clutching his new scrollcase with its precious contents tightly to his chest and nervously trying to look in ten different directions at once. The fact that he had no idea what he was looking for did nothing for his confidence, as his imagination readily supplied him with a plethora of horrible monsters, every single one of them ten times worse than its predecessor

As soon as they reached the Odesseiron Mansion Dekaras purposefully made his way towards the Parlor of Mirrors, paying no outward attention to the fact that Edwin was still trailing along after him. Edwin entered the room on his tutor's heels, trying to stay unobtrusive. The Parlor of Mirrors lived up to its name. A relatively small room compared to others in the Mansion, it contained some comfortable chairs, a few polished tables with fresh flowers and expensive ornaments and a deep blue carpet decorated with a thousand glittering stars. The mirrors were everywhere. Large and small, oblong and round, dim or shining, they decorated every single available piece of wall. And on the tables were the smaller hand-mirrors, all of them as unique as their cousins on the walls. Some, if not all of these mirrors were said to be magical, and part of a great collection created by some ancient Odesseiron ancestor with cold eyes and bushy gray eyebrows whose portrait was the only one allowed into this room. Unfortunately, he had taken the secret of how to work most of them with him to his grave.

Elvira Odesseiron was sitting on one of the couches, her shapely legs curled up beneath her. She was dressed in a deep red dressing-gown, almost the exact color of her Red Wizard robes, and her black hair had been gathered into a single braid. Unlike many of her colleagues she had never succumbed to the fashion of shaving her head, much preferring to look the best she knew how. A small glowing ball of light hovered over her right shoulder, providing her with sufficient illumination to read the heavy tome resting on her lap. As she closed it with a sharp snap Edwin saw that the title was 'How to Utterly Crush And Humiliate Your Enemies For Fun And Profit'. "Where have you two been?", she asked, looking annoyed. She then noticed her son's pale face. "Something is wrong", she said in a flat voice. "Tell me at once."

The assassin didn't answer immediately, pausing to pull the door shut behind him. "There are _wychlaran_ in town", he said, his eyes cold with barely suppressed fury. The strange word still meant nothing to Edwin, but his Mother instantly got to her feet, the book falling forgotten to the ground. She had gone very pale.

"Not looking for…", she began.

"Only as a secondary target, I dare say", Dekaras answered. "Still, it is extremely unfortunate. I must leave at once."

"Leave?" Elvira hissed, her dark eyes flashing dangerously. "What do you mean 'leave'?" The glowing ball of light swelled in size and turned a deep red.

"Surely that is obvious?" the assassin asked, raising an eyebrow. "My presence here is currently a liability. I will not have them come here looking for me, placing you in jeopardy."

"So, you would rather make a target of yourself for all to see? Let them hunt you down in the streets like a dog? Is that it?"

Edwin shrunk back towards the wall as the two adults faced each other. The air between them almost seemed to be giving off sparks.

"Of course not", Dekaras snapped, his normally respectful mode of address crumbling like a broken mask. "I have contacts throughout the city, you know that. I will be perfectly fine. Please show a little faith in my abilities."

"Why should I?" Elvira retorted. "You don't seem to have much faith in mine." By now the red orb was pulsing in an alarming way. "How dare you imply that my magic is insufficient to deal with those vagrants!" Her eyes widened in sudden surprise as the assassin grasped her wrists.

"Perhaps it wouldn't be", he snarled into her face. "But are you prepared to gamble your life on that chance? Or that of… your son? I am not."

The wizardess' mouth tightened at that, but her eyes softened a bit. "You are right", she said. "Go then. Send word if possible."

The assassin stepped back and let go of her wrists, that mask of calm detachment settling back in place. "I will", he said. "Thank you, Mistress." He bowed to Elvira, gave Edwin a brief nod and walked out the door, closing it behind him. Elvira stared at the door for a moment, her black braid almost lashing like the tail of an angry cat. And then the magic orb crashed into the door, exploding in a million angry red sparks.

"Damn you", Elvira whispered in a low voice. "Damn you for being right again." She sank into the chair again, staring into empty space.

"Mother?" Edwin asked, almost in tears. He had no idea what was going on, but he knew it had to be very bad. "Mother, what's happening?"

"Oh, my darling", Elvira said and opened her arms. "I'm so sorry." She pulled her son onto her lap, clutching him as tightly as if she were afraid he would suddenly be snatched from her. "I can't tell you", she whispered. "There is so much I can't tell you. Too many secrets. But it will be all right. I promise." Edwin tried to believe. But deep down inside he was still very much afraid.

_When they finally told him what they intended the boy refused to believe it at first. They couldn't really mean that, could they? They couldn't mean for him to spend the rest of his life doing that. But no. They all meant it. His parents, his aunts, his grandmother. They had known from the very beginning, and they saw nothing wrong with it. Rather they thought it a great honor, something to be proud of. So why couldn't he feel the same? Why did the very thought of a life like that fill him with terror and despair? He could almost taste the long and dreary years ahead, the loneliness, the enforced servitude. And the taste was bitter in his mouth, bitter as wormwood, bitter as the betrayal by all those who had claimed to love him._

Edwin deliberately relaxed his grip on the quill and calmed his breathing. The page of the spellbook was still blank. He needed his mind to be the same, empty of all the useless thoughts that occupied it. Calm, white and empty like the page, except for the one thing that mattered. It was a small glowing pinprick of light at first, but it grew and took shape inside his mind. That curve, yes. And then the wavy line, flowing like water. Then the intersection. Perfectly formed the runes floated serenely inside his mind, looking exactly as they should. Almost of its own accord they left him, channeling themselves through his arm. He couldn't feel the quill move, but as his eyes came to focus on the page, he saw the spell written down in full with not a single mistake.

"Yes!", Edwin exclaimed. "It worked! It really worked! I'm a real wizard!" He jumped off his chair and strutted around the room, puffing his rather unimpressive chest out. "All you big demons and gods had better watch out", he hissed in a sinister whispering voice. "For I am Edwin Odesseiron, the Archmage. Wearer of the Robes of the Archmage and the fabulous Staff of the Magi. Wielder of spells to rival those of the gods themselves. In fact, I think I'll challenge the gods and become one myself." Then the rasping whisper became to much for his throat and a violent coughing fit brought him to his knees, gasping and wheezing for air, his eyes streaming. "One Magic Missile spell written down", Edwin told himself as soon as he could speak again. "It's a start." He grinned happily at the thought, but soon turned somber again. 

After a week of grueling practice, he had finally managed to scribe a spell and his teacher wasn't there to see it. As a matter of fact, Dekaras had been neither seen nor heard from since that evening when he had left. What could be taking so long? Surely he would have sent word by now had he been able to? And if he wasn't able to, what could be bad enough to prevent him? Edwin had always taken great comfort in the notion of his tutor's infallibility. The thought that maybe there was a danger somewhere out there too great for him to handle was immensely frightening and made Edwin feel as if the very foundations of his world were crumbling. Adding to that, there were the nightmares. Haunting images of the ancient old woman swum across his sleeping mind. Her face was wise, her eyes sharp. They held no pity and her smile felt like talons digging into his heart. Shuddering at the memory Edwin tucked his spellbook under his arm and went to show his latest accomplishment to his mother. 

Elvira was in her study, a great heap of books and scrolls in front of her on her desk. She smiled when she saw her son enter the room and congratulated him after he had shown her his new spell. 

"You use much the same principles when memorizing the spell", she explained. "But you must promise not to cast it without adult supervision. If it backfired, you could get hurt."

"But Mother…"

"No. No casting on your own. Promise me."

Edwin sighed in defeat. "Oh, all right", he said. "I promise, I guess." Then he thought of something else. "Mother?" he asked. "Have you heard from Teacher Dekaras yet?"

Elvira's eyes became guarded. "Yes", she said slowly. "Only this morning. Everything is fine." Her gaze briefly flicked towards her desk. Edwin expected her to say something more, but she remained silent. "Now run along and play", Elvira said, sounding a little absent minded. "I have much to do."

Edwin thought about trying to wheedle some more information out of his mother, but decided against it and obediently left, heading for the Great Parlor instead to think things through. Something told him she wouldn't be forthcoming. On the other hand, perhaps there was another way of getting what he wanted. On that desk there would be valuable information, he was willing to bet on that. Now if only he could get his Mother out of the way… Edwin mulled the problem over for a while, as he lay on the thick carpet in the Great Parlor staring into the fireplace where the flames danced cheerfully. There had to be a solution. All he had to do was to find it. Eventually, he did. The idea came to him, fully shaped and beautiful. Edwin grinned, dark eyes flashing with sudden delight at his own cleverness. Yes, that would work. He set off at a near run to find his Father. 

Galen Odesseiron was a skinny, vague looking Red Wizard who owed much of his current prosperity to the inheritance left by his father, and much of his influence to the fact that his brother Homen was the current Tharchion of Surthay and so not a person to be needlessly offended. His thought processes were reminiscent of the life cycle of a tick. They would latch onto a subject with single-minded obsession and refuse to be budged. When fully bloated with blood they would then let go and wander off in search of a new victim. In other words, he was a man who had had more hobbies than there were stars in the sky, each one more disastrous than the one before. The current one was painting. While he wasn't very good at it, at least it wasn't noisy and did no real harm, so his family had chosen to let it die from natural causes. Galen was standing in the middle of the downstairs hallway, frowning at his easel. The masterwork seemed to portray a large green blob, a smaller yellow blob, and a cluster of red blobs.

"Hello, Father", Edwin said as he approached. "What are you painting?" 

Galen looked up and after a moment or two recognized his offspring. "Well, hello there, son", he said. "Don't you recognize it?"

Edwin hesitated a guess. "Is it a frog and some ladybugs?" he asked.

"No", Galen said, his voice a bit sullen. "I call it 'Tarrasque with Sun and Roses'. I thought that was obvious."

"Oh", Edwin said, privately thinking that he could have painted a much better Tarrasque himself. "Sorry. I can see that now." It still looked like blobs to him, but he didn't think it prudent to say so. Unfortunately, his mouth had other ideas. "Yes", it said, "if I squint my eyes real hard the blobs sort of meld together into a Tarrasqueish shape. Sadly, so do the roses."

Galen seemed on the verge of a sharp retort, but then he sighed. "I don't know", he said. "Perhaps I'm just not cut out for this. Maybe I should try something else…"

This was it. Feigning nonchalance Edwin spoke up. "I heard sculpture's what all the really great artists do", he said in an innocently helpful voice. "And a statue lasts much longer than a painting anyway, plus you can make it really big so everybody can see it from far off." He smiled inwardly at the fanatical gleam that suddenly filled his father's eyes.

"Of course!" Galen exclaimed. "That was a very clever idea. Why didn't I think of that myself?"

"Don't know, Father."

"Yes, I can see it all now. A sculptural masterpiece! An image in everlasting stone of the greatest wizard who ever lived."

"Who, Father?"

"Myself, of course. No time to waste! Now where does one get hold of a lot of stone quickly…" 

As Galen went off muttering to himself about granite and marble Edwin ran as fast as he could towards his Mother's study and then lurked behind the potted plant standing next to the door. It wasn't long before he saw one of the servants hurriedly come charging up the corridor and then knock on the door. After the man went inside there was about half a minute of silence and then a loud explosion, followed by Elvira's voice.

"He did WHAT?" she screamed. The door crashed open and Edwin saw his Mother stride out like some rampaging warrior woman. "Dump rocks on my carpets will he? I'll show him. There will be only so much dust left of him when I'm done."

The servant limped after her as fast as he could, his hair burnt clear off his head. "And Mistress", he added, "the Master snatched the rocks out from the foundation of the Old Bridge, and I'm afraid the Tharcion's consort's carriage was passing on the bridge at the time and…" Elvira uttered a few words that she would have bitten her tongue off rather than say out loud had she known her son was listening. As soon as she had turned the corner Edwin swiftly sneaked inside the study that had been left unlocked by his Mother in her hurry.

Edwin congratulated himself on this brilliant execution of his cunning plan. Now to find that letter… The room was dark, but he neither dared nor had time to light a lamp. He'd always had good night eyes though. He hurried around the desk and started leafing through the papers on top of it. There were spell scrolls, an old Necromancy book, customs accounts and a lot of other things that made no obvious sense to Edwin. He kept glancing nervously towards the door for fear of his Mother entering and finding him here. His heart was beating so fast it felt like it was about to pound itself out through his ribcage. I wonder if this is what being a burglar feels like, Edwin thought. Still no sign of a letter. A horrible thought struck Edwin. His Mother had been anxious to keep the letter from him. Suppose she had burnt it? The fireplace was cold now, but there had been a fire earlier. Hardly daring to look the boy turned towards it fearing to find paper ash. Seconds later he was crowing with delight and digging a small and white object out of the fireplace. The letter had in fact been tossed into the fireplace, but happily enough it had got stuck beneath the end of a hard old log that hadn't caught fire yet. Edwin paused only to make sure that it was his tutor's handwriting before hurrying away from the scene of the crime and back to his own room.

The letter was brief and to the point, with a couple of words blotted out by soot and ash. It wasn't signed, but Edwin had seen his teacher's handwriting enough times to be able to recognize it. It usually tended to say things like 'Erroneous grasp of subject,' or 'Ten points deducted for sloppiness' This letter was very different.

_Am currently staying at SMUDGE Nest. Plenty of ravens about. Undertaking investigation of subjects' whereabouts. Difficult so far. Must be cautious, subjects are highly dangerous and are, after all, SMUDGE and also likely to be trying to turn the hunt around. Am therefore working undercover and with the aid of an associate, the one who left this letter. She is trustworthy, but do not attempt to contact me here. Too dangerous. Will attempt to finish this up quickly._

_P.S. Do not let the boy see this letter. Better that he knows as little as possible of these old debts_

Edwin read the letter over and over, trying to comprehend it. Something dangerous was going on, that much was obvious, but he couldn't understand what. It must have something to do with those two strange women in the park. Who were they? What did they want? Why had his tutor reacted so violently to their presence? For that matter, where was Dekaras? The Nest, whatever and wherever that was, when not out in the streets looking for…somebody. And who was the 'associate' who had delivered the letter? Far too many questions and far too few answers. But perhaps one or two could be answered by looking carefully at the known facts and thinking about them. He had managed to scribe a spell after all. He could manage this as well.

The Nest. That rang a bell. What had it been? Yes! Edwin excitedly pushed his dark hair out of his eyes to read the sentence over again. Something about the word 'ravens' tugged at his memory. A year or so ago he had overheard a whispered conversation between two of the cooks, concerning the rumored existence of the Assassin's Guild. Everybody knew there were assassins of course, but it was an official sort of secret. And rumor spoke of assassins banding together in a Guild, having hiding places all over town and possibly even a secret headquarter. It was only whispered about, but it was said to be called 'Ravens Nest' as a reference to ravens being birds living off the deaths of others. It all fit together. Where else would an assassin go to ground? 

Edwin congratulated himself on figuring this out. It didn't help much, since he had no idea where the Nest was, but it was a start. And the 'associate' had to be another assassin, hadn't she? Suddenly Edwin had a thought that made him go cold all over. If he could find this woman, then he could find the Nest and find out what was going on. Perhaps he could even help. And she had delivered the letter here. Somebody must have seen her, perhaps even seen where she went afterwards. Yes. He could do it. He was sure of it. Assuming he wanted to trail an assassin to find another assassin in a place no doubt full of assassins. Dekaras had warned his Mother against trying it. But she was an adult. He was a child. He wouldn't be seen as a threat. And Edwin knew that most adults tend to underestimate exactly what children are capable of. 

_The boy remembered the hurt and confused looks on his family's faces the most. They had been so proud of him moments before. And then he had opened his mouth and spoken the words that had condemned him forever in their eyes. How could he refuse to serve, they no doubt asked themselves. How could he put his own wellbeing, his freedom, and his life ahead of his society's? And the faces of Them, of the Others, had been even worse. Shocked, yes. Outraged, yes. But some of them also looked strangely pleased. As if they were looking forward to what was to happen now._


	2. Chapter 2

_When they explained what was to happen the boy had protested. He had argued, pleaded, begged even. To no avail. They had taken him outside, stripped him of the ceremonial robe he was wearing over his own clothes and bound him. Then they had proceeded to strip him of his reason for living. His dreams. His hopes and aspirations. His uniqueness. Once they were done with him, he was lying on the ground, shaking. Not crying though. Too much pain to be crying. But shaking, shaking without being able to stop. The pain was inside, deep inside in the hollowness that They had left behind after they robbed him of what was his birthright, robbed him of it forever. They had told him that they did it to prevent him using it against them. But he knew better. He knew vengeance when he saw it. And even as he lay there, still shaking with the pain, his eyes sunken and hollow with despair, his hair lank and sweaty across his dry cheeks, even then he decided to make Them know it as well as he did._

Once he had made up his mind Edwin thought it best to set his plan in motion as quickly as possible. He spent the evening making careful inquiries among the servants and eventually found the man who had received the messenger bearing his Mother a letter. Apparently, the messenger had insisted on it being delivered in person and refused to take no for an answer.

"What did she look like?", Edwin asked, trying not to sound too eager.

"That was the strange part, young Master", the servant answered, frowning. "She was just a little girl. A little on the chubby side. Wore a bright green dress, she did, and a yellow cloak with the hood pulled up, so I couldn't see much of her face. She had brown hair, though. As pretty curls as I ever saw."

Edwin felt like his head was spinning. A little girl? Had he misinterpreted the meaning of the letter? A little girl couldn't very well be an assassin, could she? "Anything else?" he asked. "Did you see where she went afterwards?"

"No", the servant said. "Towards the river, that's all. But there was one more thing."

"Yes?" Edwin eagerly asked.

"Well, her dress was fairly expensive. I could tell that. So, I thought it was a little strange that she should be walking around barefoot. I saw her toes stick out under the hem of the dress and I wondered at that."

Edwin wondered the same thing. It didn't really seem to fit together. But there was nothing more to be learnt at this point, so he thanked the man and left to think things over. The girl could be anywhere, true. But most likely the Ravens Nest would be somewhere in the Outer City, away from the grand mansions and broad streets. That's where he should try to look. And a little girl in a bright yellow cloak ought to stand out. If he didn't find her, well then he could always try to keep a close watch on the front door in case she showed up again. Having made up his mind Edwin hurried to his room. 

Digging his book-bag out from under the bed he dumped all the books on the bed and stuffed the spellbook inside along with the scrollcase and the mysterious letter. He then carefully lifted a loose floorboard and extricated a couple of moderately dry apples and cookies that he kept there as emergency snacks. Into the bag they went. So far so good. Now for clothes. The Outer City was dangerous, he knew that from previous experience. He had better not look too wealthy. Happily enough there was something in his wardrobe that could help with that. Wrinkling his nose with distaste Edwin pulled out a pair of trousers and a tunic so torn, ripped and dirty that even a beggar child would have been ashamed to be caught in them. He'd been trying to keep them hidden from his Mother's eyes ever since the unfortunate incident a couple of months back that had involved an attempt at learning to ride a large dog. Now they would come in handy. When he'd put them on he looked at himself in the full-length mirror and smiled. A scruffy street-child looked back at him with an insolent grin and a wicked glint in his dark eyes. Perfect. Just perfect. 

That night Edwin dreamed again, and the dream was a different one. He was walking through the dark park again, hurrying to catch up with his teacher. But this time Dekaras didn't slow down to wait for him. He just kept walking without turning around, not seeming to notice the boy calling out for him. And somehow Edwin knew that there was a precipice somewhere ahead, a deadly cliff. He screamed and screamed until his voice gave out, but the dark figure in front of him disappeared into the shadows, apparently heedless of the danger. Then the sound of low laughter filled the air, the laughter of the old woman with the white hair. As Edwin sat up in bed with a jerk it was still ringing in his ears and he was breathing as heavily as if he had been running for real.

The next morning found Edwin making his way through the Outer City, carefully watching everybody he passed while trying to give the appearance that he was completely occupied with kicking a pebble along the street. That excuse also made it possible for him to stop at times or turn back without looking suspicious. His Mother had been very preoccupied this morning, making it possible for him to sneak out of the Mansion without great difficulty. The streets of the Outer City were dark and narrow, littered with garbage and teeming with rats. And not all rats were the four-legged kind either. Every now and then Edwin would see the other kind, sullen men with dead eyes watching from doorways or street-corners. Had he looked wealthy they would have robbed him without a second thought, perhaps killed him. As it was, they paid him no attention. Edwin decided that it was a very good thing he had learnt from previous experiences and made himself inconspicuous. Not all the people he saw were criminals of course, but they all were poor. Outside the noisy taverns there were groups of thin and desperate looking women, calling out to passing men in hoarse voices. There were children as well, pale children with eyes too large for their faces, and those Edwin took special care to avoid. The last thing he wanted was to get into a fight. Those children might not look like much but given a large enough gang they would probably eat him alive. 

So far there had been no sign of the girl in the yellow cloak. Edwin thought about asking around for her, but he wasn’t sure about whom to dare approach. On the other hand, he had come this far already, and he didn’t feel like giving up yet, even if it was afternoon by now. After some short and inconclusive conversations with various streetwalkers he went up to one of the women standing outside a tavern called ‘Bleeding Heart’. She probably wasn’t much older than his mother, Edwin thought, but she was too thin and dirty, and there were teeth missing in her mouth. Her brown hair was unkempt and peeked out beneath her shawl like a birdsnest. Still, she smiled at him when he introduced himself and told him that her name was Mirri. 

“I’m looking for my sister”, Edwin said. “We were playing, but now I can’t find her.” He then went on to describe the mysterious girl, congratulating himself on having kept the lie a simple one. 

Mirri didn’t seem to fall for it however. “Aye”, she said, a frown on her pretty but too weary face. “I know o’ that one. But if she’s yer sister, then I’m a highborn lady. Whatchoo want wi’ ‘er?”

Edwin’s face fell a little at being caught lying but he rallied quickly. “I’m sorry”, he said. “I won’t hurt her or anything. I just need to ask her a couple of questions, that’s all.”

Mirri gave him a strange look. “Oh, I’m not worried ‘bout you hurtin’ ‘er”, she said. “An’ besides, those folks keep themselves to themselves, as should you.”

“Please?” Edwin pleaded. “It’s really very important that I find her.”

“Fine then”, Mirri said in a reluctant voice. “I guess ye won’ give up till ye find out. Don’ know the house, but ye might wan’ to take a look around Bucket Square. And don’ say that I sent ye.”

Edwin thanked her politely and went on his way. It was fortunate that his teacher had forced him to learn every street of the city by heart after he had got lost in the Outer City some time ago. He knew exactly where he was going. Bucket Square was a small and squalid place close to the river. Tall, dark houses lined it, many of which seemed to be boarded up. It had been named for the wellspring that had once provided the neighborhood with fresh water, now long since dried up. There were a few stalls where things were sold that only the most optimistic or the most desperate would call food. Not many people were about, but now and then somebody went past. Edwin sat down on a staircase outside one of the houses, put his bag between his feet and took out a piece of string from his pocket. Twining it between his fingers in complicated patterns he pretended to be completely absorbed by his game while he was actually paying close attention to everything that went on around him. After another hour his patience was rewarded.

On the other side of the square Edwin could see a diminutive figure passing between two parked carts. It was too far off for him to make out any details particularly since the sky was darkening minute by minute, but the bright yellow cloak told him everything he needed to know. The little girl never turned around or looked behind her, she went straight up to one of the houses, knocked on the door and disappeared inside after speaking briefly with the person who had opened the door. Edwin didn’t hesitate long. As he walked across the square his legs felt like they were about to give out under him, but he never considered giving up. That house might or might not be the Ravens Nest. It didn’t look any different from the ones on either side of it, but he had hardly expected the Assassin’s Guild to be clearly identified as such. Either way, that girl was inside, and Edwin fully intended to find her. He walked up to the door and knocked as firmly as he could, trying to look as if he knew exactly what he was doing. After a moment the door was pulled open and Edwin gawked at the person inside.

It was a boy, probably no older than twelve or thirteen, but to the six-and-a-half-year old Edwin he looked very grown up and very dangerous. He was tall for his age, with a great shock of violently red hair and a narrow freckled face. Small and close-set blue eyes gave Edwin a suspicious look.

“Yeah?” the boy grunted, obviously trying to make his voice sound deeper and more ominous than it actually was. 

“I’m looking for someone”, Edwin said, and tried to sound confident. “A girl with a yellow cloak.”

“Nobody like that here”, the other boy and started pulling the door shut. But before he had the time to complete the action Edwin darted under his outstretched arm and into the house, taking him by complete surprise. A few seconds later Edwin wondered if he had just made the greatest mistake of his life as he found himself inside a dark and narrow hallway, the door closed behind him and the red-haired boy gripping his collar and pushing him up against the wall.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, you little shit?” the boy hissed. “And you better answer before I wring your scrawny neck. Who sent you? Out with it!”

Edwin frantically tried to think. If he told the truth this boy likely wouldn’t believe it. But what kind of lie would he believe? Who could possibly have sent Edwin here? And then the answer came to him and it was so obvious he wondered that he hadn’t thought of it at once.

“Let me down!” he commanded. “You’ll be sorry if he finds out about this!”

“Who?” the other boy sneered, “Your teddy bear?”

“No”, Edwin retorted, “the one who sent me.” He then proceeded to describe his teacher. “He said I should go here”, Edwin continued. “That he thought I was good enough to become his apprentice. You don’t want to argue with him, do you?”

The boy paled a little at this thought, but then he rallied. “I think you’re lying”, he said. “He doesn’t take apprentices. He hardly ever stays here since he works mainly uptown. And if he did, I bet it wouldn’t be a snotty little brat like you. He wouldn’t even take me when I asked him, and I’m really good.” The boy grinned, showing an even row of strong but yellow teeth, some of which had been filed to points. It wasn’t a pleasant or friendly grin. “I’m called ‘the Badger’ by the way”, the boy said. “Do you know why that is?” 

“I don’t know” Edwin sneered. “Do you eat bugs or is it just because you live in a hole in the ground?”

The Badger’s smile widened a little at this. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy offing you”, he whispered. “No, that’s not it. It’s because once a badger gets his teeth into you, he doesn’t let go till he hears the bone crunch. Care to check it out?” His breath was hot and hurried as he leaned in towards his smaller captive. Edwin kicked furiously and felt his foot connect with something soft and yielding. The Badger let out a strangled scream and dropped to the ground, clutching his groin. Edwin tried to get past him but found his leg gripped by the other boy’s hand, those horrible yellow teeth dripping with fresh blood where they had bitten through the lower lip. “And now”, the Badger groaned, “you will find out the reason for my name.”

“No need, I can tell him that”, said another voice, somewhere behind Edwin. It was soft and light and definitely feminine. “It’s ‘cause you keep badgering people without being told to. Now let him go. I’ll handle this.”

To Edwin’s vast surprise the Badger released him, slowly got to his feet and gave a short and jerky bow. “Sorry”, he murmured. “Just doing my job.”

“Fine”, the voice said. “And I’m sure you’re a great doorman. Just remember that so far that’s all you are. As for you, kid. Come here.” Edwin turned around and instantly felt his heart plunge all the way down to his toes. It was the little girl he had been looking for all day, but now he knew why Mirri had scoffed at the idea of her being his lost little sister. That was because she actually wasn’t a little girl at all, even if her small size made the mistake an easy one. She was a young halfling woman, about Edwin’s height, with bouncing brown curls and red cheeks. Her dark brown eyes were merry and bright, but with a hard glint to them that made him decidedly uncomfortable. That predatory gleam reminded him of his tutor, even though he otherwise couldn’t have imagined two more different people. The cheerful yellow cloak did not hide the fact that she was twirling a small throwing dagger between her fingers.

“I’m Poppy”, the halfling said. “I believe you wanted to meet me. Now tell me why.”

_The boy had thought they would leave him alone once they were finished with him. He was soon proven wrong. Still weak from the ordeal he didn’t have the strength to break free when they carried him into an empty tent and put a guard outside. Two of them came to speak to him, to tell him that they intended to bring him with them anyway, but as a prisoner rather than as an honored guest. Then they told him that he could still be useful, and for what. The leader smiled at him and said that he should consider himself lucky to still be able to serve his people. The boy never responded but simply stared at her, hating her and memorizing her every feature. In the end she was the first to look away. The boy felt a small surge of triumph at that, and at the brief expression of resentment that flickered across her normally serene face. Involuntary displays of emotion put you at a disadvantage. He promised himself to remember that._

_After they had left him the boy lay still and thought for a while. His thoughts were dark, dark and poisonous but strangely clear. Briefly he wondered whether that was because of having been betrayed. Perhaps when your heart was ripped out of you the head grew stronger. It didn’t matter. He had to get out. If he didn’t, they would take him away at dawn, far away. They wouldn’t kill him, but he would be worse than dead. He felt like an animal in a trap, desperate enough to gnaw its own leg off rather than be caught. He had to get out. He had to. No matter what. And then he had an idea. It would be dangerous, but he had to try. Making his voice as small and weak as he could, he called out for the guard. She came reluctantly, but she came nevertheless. She couldn’t risk him getting sick and dying after all. Then he wouldn’t be valuable anymore. The boy huddled in a fetal position, groaning faintly as the woman approached. She prodded him sharply with a foot, but he didn’t respond. With a sharp and irritated sigh, she bent to turn him over. And the boy moved like an uncoiling spring, snatching the small dagger she carried at her belt and pressing it against her throat, right over the throbbing artery. He knew what to do. He had been along on the hunts almost since he was old enough to walk. But this was another human being, not a rabbit or a deer. He didn’t know if he could do this. He didn’t know if he wanted to. Don’t scream, he whispered. I’ll just knock you out and get away. Please don’t scream._

_The woman hesitated, her eyes round and white against her face. Then she opened her mouth to scream, underestimating the power of despair that carried her opponent along on a crimson tide. As crimson as her lifeblood as it gushed out of her slit throat. The scream faltered on her lips and she was dead before she hit the floor. Her still open eyes looked very surprised. I’m sorry, the boy whispered. But you left me no choice. The hot blood on his face and hands was almost black in the darkness. The boy felt his stomach churn violently at the sight and feel of it and just barely managed to hold the vomit down. Eventually he felt a little better. Trying not to look at the dead woman he hurriedly wiped his hands on the cover of the bed where he had been lying then tucked the dagger inside his belt. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use it again soon, but he knew that he would if he had to. As he slipped silently away into the night one thought kept running through his mind. He had killed another person. And it had been easy, frighteningly so. He was very much afraid that he could soon get used to it._

Poppy motioned for Edwin to follow her and then walked off. Edwin nervously went along with the small halfling woman. While she wasn’t any bigger than he was he had no doubt that she was very dangerous. The dark hallway opened up into what looked like an ordinary living room, even if it was rather dusty and there wasn’t much furniture. Just a table, a few chairs and a couple of bookshelves. Poppy walked up to the leftmost of these and ran her small hand along the books. Edwin couldn’t see exactly what she did, but he was soon to be shown the reason for it. The shelf swung silently outward, revealing a dimly lit passage behind it. Poppy beckoned Edwin inside, and once more he had no choice but to follow.

After a few minutes they came out inside a large hall. Edwin looked around in wonder. He seemed to be inside a huge basement or cavern, brightly lit by many flickering torches. Here and there he could see other passageways like the one he had entered through. There were people everywhere. Most were humans, men and women, of different age and demeanor. But on occasion he spotted other, stranger beings. Over in one corner was a grizzled old dwarf who had set up a stall and was selling a vast array of nasty-looking weapons. Several interested customers were looking at the wares. As he passed, Edwin could hear one of them, an ordinary-looking blonde young man say: “Yes, that’s all well and good, but you know I prefer a clean kill. Have you got one without the poison?” Then Edwin spotted a frail old man with a long white beard who seemed to be selling various magical potions and poisons. The old man gave Edwin a sharp look as he saw him pass, evidently recognizing a strange face. When he saw the elven woman demonstrating archery to a few younger people Edwin couldn’t keep from staring. He had never seen a real elf before. The slender woman had a pale and slightly pointed face with deep blue eyes and dark hair from which the sharp points of her delicate ears rose. As she saw the small boy gaping at her the woman smiled at him and then let fly an arrow that hit the bullseye and split the arrow already stuck there in two.

“Don’t stare so much, kiddo”, Poppy said. “You’ll make people pay attention.” She led Edwin across the room and into another passageway. On one of the walls they passed Edwin saw a noticeboard, covered with announcements. They seemed to be assassination assignments available. Some of them were: ‘Uptown priest. Preferably poison.’ ‘Heir apparent. Make it appear natural causes.’ ‘Wife-beater. As bloody as possible.’ ‘Political assignment. Sniper wanted. Extra high fee, high risk assignment.’ None of them mentioned names or addresses, but they all had a line at the bottom telling the interested assassin to inquire at the Seniors Lounge, whatever that was. 

After a few more minutes of walking the halfling stopped outside a small rounded door, unlocked it and beckoned Edwin inside. An adult human would no doubt have found the room cramped, but to a small boy and a halfling it was just right. The room was warm and snug, with a small bed at one corner, a desk and a couple of comfy chairs next to a round table with a red and white checked tablecloth on top. But what amazed Edwin more than anything was the cats. Stuffed cats, porcelain cats, glass cats, wooden cats, ceramic cats, small, large and middle-sized cats, happy cats and hissing cats, cute cats and ugly cats. The only kind missing from the collection was a live cat.

“Wow!” Edwin said in a reverent voice. “You must really like cats.”

“So?” Poppy said a bit defensively as she seated herself in one of the chairs and poured two cups of tea from the pot standing on the table. “Any particular rule against an assassin being fond of cats?”

“No, no”, Edwin hurriedly assured the small woman. “I just thought it was a little unusual, that’s all.”

Poppy snorted and tossed her head. “Plenty of different kinds of assassins out there, kiddo”, she said. “Not all of us go in for the gloom-and-doom style favored by your friend Dekkie.”

Edwin’s tea spattered all over the pristine tablecloth. “Dekkie?” he choked, hardly noticing the halfling’s reproachful look.

“Now don’t you get any ideas about calling him that”, Poppy admonished. “He isn’t very fond of it and I’m only barely allowed to use it in private.” She grinned. “So of course I do it whenever I can, if only to tease him”, she said. “I am his Best Friend after all, it’s kind of my job. But I don’t recommend you trying that.”

“I won’t”, Edwin said in a faint voice. His mind boggled at the thought of his tutor’s probable reaction to a stunt like that. Then the rest of Poppy’s previous words registered in his mind. “You know who I am then?” he asked.

Another snort. “Of course I do”, Poppy said and handed Edwin a piece of gingerbread, after which she proceeded to stuff her own face. “The disguise is good for a beginner, but your face is much too clean for a streetkid. Besides, Dekkie described you to me and I caught sight of you when I delivered his letter.” She paused. “As to what I said, he is the right type for looking looming and intimidating”, she said. “And he knows it, so of course he takes full advantage of the fact. Me, I couldn’t loom if my life depended on it. I work differently.” She smiled, showing off her dimples. “Cute, eh?” she said. “It’s really easy to pass myself off as a little human girl most of the time. Even when people do see me for what I am they never suspect that little old me could be in any way dangerous. So, what was it you wanted, anyway? Didn’t come all the way here just to chat, did you?”

Edwin suddenly remembered his errand. “Where is Teacher Dekaras now?” he asked. “Is he here?”

Poppy shook her head. “Not right now”, she said and ate some more gingerbread. “He does have a room here, same as every member, but he doesn't come here very often. He’s been here on and off the past week, but never long. I haven’t seen him around since he asked me to deliver that letter for him.” She grinned again. “Probably on an assignment”, she said. “He tends to forget about worldly matters like eating and sleeping when he’s working on a difficult one. I’m sure he’ll turn up soon and act as if he’d never been away in the first place.” She then noticed Edwin’s crestfallen expression and gave him an encouraging smile. “Hey, what’s with the long face?” she asked. “Dekkie is a big boy, you know. He’ll be just fine.”

“I hope so”, Edwin said in a hesitant voice. “It’s just that…well…I think there’s something really bad going on. Really bad. I think my Mother knows something of what it is, but she won’t tell me either. I just…I just want to help, that’s all.”

“Go on then”, the halfling said. “Tell Auntie Poppy what’s wrong.” Edwin did so, starting out with the two strange women in the park and going on from there. As he told his story Poppy’s normally cheerful face darkened into a scowl and that hard glitter returned to her eyes.

“You’re right”, she said. “It does sound bad. Unfortunately, I can’t say for sure what it means. I…can maybe guess, but guesses don’t help here. But what I do know is that Dekkie mentioned something about inns. He’s probably looking for those two ladies and by your description they sound like they’re probably staying uptown. We'll start there anyway. Now, I’m free at the moment, so what do you say to you and me going on a little walk up there to check things out? If we don’t run into him, we might as least be able to learn something.”

Edwin felt a heavy weight drop from his heart and he gave Poppy a grateful smile. “I’d like that”, he admitted shyly. Then he remembered something. “Uh, I don’t have any money with me to pay you”, he said, feeling very simple. “But I’m almost a wizard now so I could try to cast a spell for you or something.”

Poppy made a dismissive gesture. “Save the mystic mumbo-jumbo for Dekkie”, she said. “He appreciates that sort of thing. And you don’t have to pay me. This one’s on the house. But obviously we have to wait until tomorrow morning. I'm not taking a kid like you into the Outer City at night. Dekkie would eat me alive if anything happened to you.”

"But…"

"No way. Either you spend the night or I'm taking you home right now. Your Ma's going to be mad enough as it is, I should think."

Edwin blanched a little at this. He hadn't really thought about what was going to happen when his Mother found out that he was gone as he had hoped to be home before then. "Could we at least send her a note?", he asked in a plaintive voice. "Let her know where I am?"

"Oh, sure. We'll just let her know that her darling baby boy will be spending the night at the Ravens Nest. That will be a great relief. Better to just let her know you're safe. I'll handle that. Don't you worry about a thing."

Before going to sleep that night, Edwin decided to spend a little time with his spellbook. Poppy had fetched an extra cot for him to sleep on, but he didn't think he could go to sleep just yet. He felt the need to do something. Memorizing a spell actually turned out to be much easier than scribing it. After he had examined the page a few times he felt something shift and settle inside his mind. He could almost feel the spell there, ready to be used. Satisfied at last he fell asleep, clutching one of Poppy's stuffed cats close to him and a pleased smile on his face. 

That night the nightmares came again. He was standing on an empty plain, gray dust swirling all around him, the sky dark with heavy clouds. He was all alone, and somehow, he knew that something terrible was about to happen. He had to find his tutor. Only then could the terrible thing be prevented. But where could he look? Edwin desperately turned around in a circle, but the gray emptiness was everywhere. "I'm coming!" he screamed into the sky, "Please, wait for me!" The only answer was the howling of the cold and bitter wind. When he awoke with a gasp, he could still feel it biting into his skin. Shuddering he pulled the cat closer to him and tried to go to sleep again. But it was a long while before he did.


	3. Chapter 3

_The boy knew that he had been extremely lucky to even escape the camp with his life. The warriors had been everywhere, not to mention Them. But they had been preoccupied with guarding against an outside threat, never noticing the small dark shape that slowly crept past them. Since then he had been travelling by night, hiding as best he could in the daytime. The first time he stopped he had barely been able to sleep at all, certain that they would come swooping down on him and drag him back, if not kill him on the spot. But by now the fear had dulled from acute panic to a slow simmer, more easily ignored. They hadn't found him yet after all. Perhaps he would be lucky. The boy mentally chastised himself at that thought. He couldn't afford to count on luck. He had to be good enough not to need luck. Good enough to make his own luck._

_Travelling had been hard. As he was forced to remain constantly on guard against pursuers or random patrols the foraging for food couldn't be allowed to take much time. The boy studied his ribs and thin legs and arms with detached interest. He had lost weight, quite a lot of it. The hunger had been bad at first, but by now it had subsided to a dull ache. That probably wasn't a good thing, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He had left the plains behind some days ago and entered the mountains. Hiding was easier here, but the food even more scarce than before. He was feeling dizzy now, dizzy and weak. If he didn't reach the other side soon, he knew he probably would die. He was used to walking long distances, but nothing like this. Squinting his eyes into narrow slits against the glaring sun he kept putting one foot forward, then the next. It worked, for a while. But that afternoon found him slumping to the ground in the shade of a large rock, too exhausted to get to his feet again. The hunger he could barely feel by now, but the thirst…His throat was on fire, his lips cracked and dry. There had been no water to be found that entire day and almost none the two days before that. So now he would probably die, and he would never be able to pay Them back for what They had done. The boy almost thought he was about to shed a tear at that thought, but his eyes remained dry._

_The notion came to him that he hadn't cried since before the day They came. Perhaps he couldn't anymore. The person he had used to be was dead, after all. Just as dead as the woman he had killed. Did that make him an undead then? The idea was strangely amusing. Undead didn't need food or water. There was a half-crazed look to the boy's sunken eyes as he stared at the dead woman's dagger and wondered whether drinking his own blood could help ease his burning thirst._

_And then the dark shape bent over him. To the boy's delirious mind, it was Death itself come for him. But then his vision cleared, and he saw that it was only a man after all. A man with a shaven head, his eyes sharp and alert, his face decorated with a serpentine pattern of black tattoos. The man spoke to him, shook him, asked for his name and what he was doing here._

_The boy forced his bleeding lips into the semblance of a smile. Suddenly the man's insistence that he answer all these questions seemed very funny. He spoke his name. It didn't matter now. What was he doing? Dying. What did it look like? Where was he from? North. Why had he left? Because they hurt him. Because he wouldn't give up his life for them. Because he had killed someone to keep his freedom. The man looked very interested at that. Would the boy like some help? A safe haven away from harm. An education. A chance for revenge. All he needed to do in return was to tell the man all he knew about his homeland. About Them in particular. That, and give the man his loyalty. The boy thought about this a moment. Then he nodded. After what had happened, he wasn't sure his loyalty could be freely given to anybody anymore. But at the right price, he was fully prepared to sell it._

Edwin was shaken forcibly awake the next morning, the excited Poppy waving a letter in his face. "Good news!", she exclaimed. "Dekkie seems to be on to something. He wants me to go meet him. Take a look."

Edwin squinted at the letter, rubbing his eyes. It had been hastily jotted down on the back of an old menu.

_Poppy_ , it read. _Meet me at the intersection of Boot Street and Cobbler Lane at your earliest convenience. And Poppy? That does mean 'at once'. D._

"See?" Poppy said. "We'll go see him right now. Go on, hurry and get dressed." Edwin yawned and hastily pulled his rags on. Poppy assisted him by smearing his face liberally with grime and dust, making him look like a true urchin. The halfling then took him by the hand and led the way into the streets of the Outer City.

The meeting-place turned out to be an intersection between two fairly narrow but heavily trafficked streets. There were several small shops around, and people steadily passed in and out of them. The people here weren't quite as ragged and desperate looking as they had been in many of the other parts of the Outer City that Edwin had seen so far. Still, among the more respectable shopkeepers, matrons and dayworkers were more than one member of the morally flexible classes. A gambler was standing on a street-corner trying to entice passersby into playing a game involving a glass bead, three empty cups and amounts of money that the victims really couldn't spare. A group of large and thuggish men passed close, jostling anybody who got in their way, now and then punching or kicking when people didn't move aside quite fast enough. A skinny man carrying a heavy sack of flour was pushed aside and fell, giving them a hateful glare but saying nothing. On the other side of the street a few urchins were shouting taunts at a bent old woman selling apples, imitating her hobbling walk as she tottered by. And inside a dark alleyway Edwin could just about make out a dark shape, like that of someone trying to stay out of sight. Edwin nudged Poppy and the halfling carefully turned her head. 

"I see", she said in a quiet voice. "Let's go." Walking at a slow but deliberate pace they entered the alley. It was dark and damp, and seemingly empty. But a soft rustle up ahead hinted that they might not, in fact, be quite alone. Edwin shivered, not entirely because of the cold.

"Apples?" a quavering old voice said right behind them. "Buy some nice apples? Half the price for the lady Raven?" Poppy whirled around, instantly whipping out a throwing dagger and pointing it at the stooped old woman. 

"What are you doing following us?", the halfling assassin demanded. "And what do you know of Ravens? Speak up or be sorry."

"What do I know of Ravens?" the old crone cackled, baring a gap-toothed grin. Wild strands of dirty white hair stuck out in all directions from under her bonnet and she was wrapped in so many shawls that she looked like a walking laundry basket. Some of them smelled like wet dog, others like a dirty carpet after said dog has used it as a toilet. The basket she clutched to her flat breast as possessively as if it had contained a cache of diamonds did indeed contain apples. Dirty brown apples, as wrinkled as the ancient hag's skin, what little could be seen of it. "Only what I get told, little one. Friend of yours told me, yes, he did. Told me to find you. You want to see him, maybe? Or maybe buy some nice apples? They help you sleep better at night, oh yes they do."

"Maybe", Poppy said cautiously. "That would depend. What did this friend look like?"

"Why, like a Raven of course", the hag said, chuckling to herself. "A black raven. Said he'd sent you a letter. Asked me to go bring you. You coming or what?"

"Fine", Poppy said. "But you go ahead, or no deal."

The old woman nodded silently at that and then set off along the alley. It got progressively darker as they walked along, and after a minute or so Edwin could still hear her shuffling footsteps, but he was no longer able to see her. Then the footsteps stopped and there was a dim light up ahead. It was coming from the other side of the alley, and now Edwin could see the old woman silhouetted against the alley mouth. Funny. She hadn't looked that tall before. Then she turned around and took off her bonnet.

"Have you two any idea of the calamity you almost caused?" Dekaras asked before removing the white wig that almost entirely obscured his face. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at the sight of my student gallivanting around the Outer City without permission. Why on earth I should expect him to keep out of mortal danger and occupy himself with his studies is quite beyond me. But you, Poppy. I expected better of you than to let this child persuade you to accompany him on his little expedition." 

"Uh, hi Dekkie", the halfling said with an embarrassed grin. "Good to see you. Er, nice teeth." 

The tall assassin gave his friend and colleague a withering glare before responding. "Black paint", he said. "And I've told you before not to call me that." He paused and rubbed his back. "An efficient disguise, but hardly a comfortable one", he said. "I hope I haven't developed a permanent crick in my back from bending over that long. Now kindly explain your idiotic actions, boy. Briefly, mind you. We haven't much time to spare."

_The air was chill up here among the rooftops. He noticed the fact, filed it away for further reference and then forgot about it. It wasn't cold enough for his fingers to stiffen up. That was the important thing. As he waited, he thought about the mission ahead. It wasn't his first one, and his training had prepared him well. Objectively speaking there was no need for concern. On the other hand, it was the first time he encountered one of Them since he had left. And it would be more than one. The young man smiled to himself at the thought. It wasn't a pleasant smile, more like a baring of teeth. With luck he would be able to handle two. But he had been careful in his planning. He didn't intend to depend on luck._

_Then they were suddenly there, stepping out of the house. Two of them, as he had suspected. Secure in their arrogant knowledge that no one would be able to recognize them for what they were. No one but the unseen watcher above who recognized them all too well, particularly the older one. He would never forget the exalted look on her face as she led the circle of women that drained him of his inborn gift. That face was the last thing that drifted across his closed eyelids every time he went to sleep, lodged inside his mind like an invited guest. He had memorized every detail of it._

_Despite the fact that years had passed since last he saw her a tiny sliver of icy fear shot through him, making his jaw clench. Then it was ruthlessly squashed as he made himself concentrate on the hatred instead, the constantly burning embers of it deliberately fanned into flames. Not hot though. A cold fire of hatred, a focal point to hold on to. He almost wondered that the old woman didn't feel it lash her skin and sear her bones._

_He would have preferred to take her out first, but the younger woman was in the way, as were the two warriors. Soon they would pass around the corner and it would be too late. The young man made his decision, gently squeezing the trigger of the crossbow. A gurgling scream from the younger woman was cut off as a second bolt hit her square in the throat. Not much time left._

_The two burly warriors were working themselves into a frenzy by now, wanting to sink their swords into the unseen enemy's body but unable to spot him. They were unimportant. The remaining woman was not. Swiveling the crossbow around to take aim again he saw her turn around, saw her look him straight in the eye, even from this distance. Saw the recognition in her eyes. She raised her hands and started an incantation. Spitting out a brief curse the young man threw himself aside, across the narrow rooftop and over to the other side. Seconds later the huge fireball struck the chimney he had been hiding behind, making it burst into a million pieces. The heatwave almost made him lose his grip and fall and he felt rather than heard a second fireball approaching. Acting more on instinct than out of any rational thought he leapt, just barely managing to catch hold of the drainpipe of the next building as the spell took out the entire roof in an inferno of flames. And then he was on the ground, hardly remembering having climbed down, and running as fast as his legs could carry him for cover. As he reached the cover of shadows between the buildings, he decided that while the mission hadn't been a complete success, at least it hadn't been a failure. One of the witches was dead, and hopefully the other would think twice about crossing the border in the near future. For now, it would have to do. For now._

"I see", Dekaras said once Edwin had finished his explanation. "While I appreciate your willingness to help you really shouldn't have come here. We are in great danger, and you being here makes it worse."

"What's your worry?" Poppy asked, her round face tense. 

"Divination spells", Dekaras said tersely and without further explanation. "I would have preferred to take the boy home, but I cannot afford further delay. They are close enough to finding me as it is. I must act first. Poppy, you stay here and keep our young friend out of trouble if at all possible. I'm going inside." He nodded briefly in the direction of the dark building next to him and started peeling off his disguise, letting shawls and skirt drop inside the apple basket until only his more customary black garments remained. He then extricated a thin rope with a grappling hook from the basket, threw it onto the roof and started climbing up the rope until he reached a closed window. Some brief maneuvering later the window swung silently outwards and the assassin disappeared inside.

"I wonder what that was all about", Poppy mused. 

Edwin didn't answer. He kept staring up towards the window, hoping to see his teacher emerge. But nothing happened, and all was silent. Then he heard a faint rustle of robes behind him and started to turn around. Before he had the time to complete the motion the stunning spell hit him, and all was black and silent.

When Edwin next came to, he was being carried. He struggled weakly against the unfamiliar arms, but to no avail. He barely had the strength to move. The person carrying him was very large and wearing a woolen vest that smelled like it was fresh off the sheep. He thought he could glimpse Poppy out of the corner of his eye, still unconscious and being carried as he was. Then they were inside the house and he heard a woman's voice from somewhere behind him. 

"You may as well come out", it said. It was the voice of the woman in the park, the woman from his dreams. "If you do, you have my word that they will remain unharmed."

The brief silence that followed sounded almost contemptuous. "The word of a _wychlaran_ isn't worth more than your stinking breath, _Othlor_ ", Dekaras' voice spoke from somewhere inside the shadows. "But it appears you leave me no choice but to comply." Edwin wanted to shake his head in negation, but it wouldn't obey his brain's commands and he saw his tutor walk out of the shadows staring at the woman behind Edwin with an expression of cold hatred such as the boy had never seen on his face before. 

"Take him", the woman said triumphantly. Edwin tried to scream but a large hand covered his mouth and the darkness swirled up around him once more.

The second time Edwin awoke he was lying outstretched on a low bench, the wooden surface cool and hard beneath him. As he carefully peeked from under half-closed lids, he could make out Poppy's small form next to him. The halfling didn't stir from her enspelled slumber. A very large man with a sword almost as large as he was stood next to the bench. It was probably the one who had carried him before, Edwin thought. At least the smell was the same. And then he heard voices from the other side of the room, opened his eyes more fully and bit back a frightened gasp.

His teacher was sitting on a chair against the other wall, his hands manacled behind him with heavy chains and his legs similarly tied together. This didn't seem to satisfy the younger of the two women facing him however, as she kept watching him nervously, looking like she had somehow found herself on the back of a tiger and wasn't sure if she would be able to get off alive. Edwin recognized her. She was the younger of the two women from the park, dark of skin and hair, and wearing a dark blue dress. Her hair was pleated into a multitude of tiny braids. The other woman he recognized as well. She was the older one, the one he had heard referred to as _Othlor_. Her white hair was tightly gathered in a bun and there was a very pleased expression on her angular face.

"Your plan failed, _vremyonni_ ", she said. "We might not have been able to find you alone. You are apt at hiding your tracks. But the boy, now. That was different." She held out a small object and Edwin was surprised to see the lollipop he had dropped in the park when the two women had first appeared. Dekaras said nothing, but Edwin could tell that he too knew it for what it was. "Yes", the old woman said. "I suspected you were around, _vremyonni_. There were rumors. And my magic tells me much. When I found this, I knew what child had chanced to lose it. Finding him was easy. But then you had already left. It took a few nightmares sent by me to persuade him to come look for you, but not as many as I had thought. The little beast seems to be fond of you, _vremyonni_. I wonder why."

"I thank you not to call me that", Dekaras said, his voice icy. "As you are well aware, I refused that title as soon as I knew what it meant."

"What do you mean?" the younger woman asked. "A _vremyonni_ is highly honored at home, honored above all others."

"Oh, yes", the assassin sneered. "Honored like a calf fattened for the slaughter. At least the animal gets a swift death. You sicken me. You _wychlaran_ , the proud Witches of Rasheman. The benevolent rulers, beloved by all. But what of the male magic users, witch? What of them? Allow me to tell you the sordid truth. They are taken from their parents at the same age that the witches enter higher training. Then they are brought deep into the mountains, where they become virtual slaves. The _vremyonni_ then spend the rest of their artificially lengthened lives holed up in little caves in the mountain, manufacturing magical items for the witches to use. And they don’t get to leave. Now call me insane, but somehow that doesn't quite sound like an acceptable future career to me." The warrior standing next to the prisoner moved as if to strike him, but the old woman held up her hand.

"Let him speak", she said. "It makes no difference."

"Unless they refuse of course", the assassin said, his voice dripping venom. "Which I did. What is your name, witch?"

"Endarra", the dark woman said, not taking her eyes off him. Little beads of sweat were forming at her forehead.

"Well, Endarra, the ones who refuse suffer a different fate. As I found out, much to my chagrin. A circle of witches came for me, and when I refused the ‘honour’, they used their magic to try to make me regret my decision. I was born with the magic, witch. The same as you were. But your _Othlor_ there, your Elder, she and her friends stole it from me."

"A necessary evil", the old woman said, her voice impassive. "We cannot have rogue magic users around. We will not tolerate that. They must be neutralized, for the good of all Rasheman. The ritual is an ancient custom."

"So, little witch", the assassin said, "would you like to know what it felt like? I imagine it is a bit similar to having your heart ripped out of your body while you are still alive to appreciate the sensation, a fate that I would be only too happy to inflict on your beloved _Othlor_. Many _vremyonni_ do not survive the ritual. I learnt that after coming here."

"Yes", the old woman said. "Let us speak of your coming here. Your crimes against your country do not stop at refusing to lend yourself to her aid. You killed a _wychlaran_ on the night of your defection. You have killed many since. Among the apprentices they call you 'the Wraith'. The silent death in the night. How many dead, _vremyonni_? How many dead for your pride? And you have even allied yourself with our country's ancient enemy, helping to betray us all."

"My country?" Dekaras said. The play of shadows across his sharp features made them resemble a devil mask. "Rasheman betrayed me first, when she demanded I become her slave rather than her servant. Now I serve where I choose. The Red Wizard who saved my life when I was dying in the mountains gave me the means to do that in return for your precious secrets and my services. As you can see, I have made an alternative career for myself instead of the one you kept me from. In answer to your question, none have died for my pride, but many have died because of your greed. And the one kind of death I take great pleasure in is when I get the chance to eliminate a witch foolish enough to enter Thay."

"Endarra, leave us", the _Othlor_ ordered. "You are not yet trained enough to deal with the evils of this one. You too, Berk. Andres." The younger witch reluctantly left the room, as did the two warriors. "Our coming across you was accidental", she said as she coolly regarded her prisoner. "We come seeking the Children. The Spawn of Bhaal. Being a servant of Murder you must know about that."

"I serve no dead god", the assassin said contemptuously. "I have heard whisperings of the Children, but their whereabouts are unknown to me and I have made no efforts to learn more."

"Oh, but I think you have", the old woman said, leaning forward. "I know of your skills, you see. You could have a higher position than you do. Yet you stay in the service of a wizard who seems to be more than half idiot and the rest of him a fool. Why, if you do not hope to reap some great benefit? I think one of the Children is very close by. Very close by indeed." 

Her sharp eyes flickered towards Edwin and the boy did his best to look comatose. He thought he could probably move his limbs now, but he was too afraid to try. Then he heard his teacher chuckle mirthlessly to himself. "The boy?" Dekaras asked, sounding incredulous. "A Child of Bhaal? Oh, you witches never cease to amaze me with your stupidity. I am intimately familiar with his parentage and I can assure you that no god was involved. And if I remain in what some might call a humble position it is because I am perfectly comfortable where I am and because my loyalties, when freely given, are very strong. Make of that what you will."

"I do", the _Othlor_ said, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "I do not trust you. But I am a diviner, and I have ways of finding the truth out. It was always my intention to bring you home alive, if at all possible. Not with your mind intact, of course. We do not need that. But rogue _vremyonni_ may still serve with their bodies that their bloodline need not be lost. You would have been a powerful one, I think. A pity it couldn't be, but any children of yours will likely be equally strong in the Art. We will find out when the time comes. Right now, your mind can be put to use a final time. You know the truth. I will have it. You can resist, but not forever. And the boy could wake up to see it. You wouldn't want that, I think. Or you can cooperate, and it will all be over before you know it."

Edwin wanted to scream, but the terror of the situation was too much and not even a whimper passed his lips. He didn't want to look, but not seeing, not knowing was even worse. Poppy still hadn't moved.

"I will cooperate", Dekaras said, his voice outwardly calm. "But you will find nothing to your liking if you enter my mind."

"I am sure of it", the woman said. "But I will risk that. Goodbye, _vremyonni_." The words she muttered were unfamiliar to Edwin, but he recognized the language of magic when he heard it. A soft white nimbus enveloped the witch and then spread out to encompass the assassin. A minute passed, and another. Nothing seemed to be happening. And then the _Othlor_ staggered back with a horrible scream, tearing at her face with long fingernails, clawing at her eyes. The blood was streaming down her cheeks by now and still she kept screaming, no longer as loudly as before but rather a high-pitched keening that was even more terrible. Finally ceasing her clawing at her now empty eye-sockets she pressed her hands to her chest, her face as white as a sheet, and crumpled to the floor, dead.

A few seconds passed. "Fascinating", Dekaras said and opened his eyes. He too was a little paler than usual as he saw the corpse on the floor. "I hardly dared hope that would happen." He then turned his head towards Edwin. "It was very good of you to manage to keep still, boy", he said, his voice warmer than before. "Unfortunately, I need you to be brave a little while longer. In the right pocket of her robes is the key to these chains. I need you to get it and unlock them for me." Edwin nodded hesitantly and stumbled to his feet, not daring to trust his voice. Before he could get very far the door burst open and Endarra rushed inside, closely followed by the two guards. 

" _Othlor_!", the witch screamed. "No! NO!" She spread her fingers wide, drew her head up and started an incantation. Edwin didn't wait to find out what it would be. There was no time to think, only to react. The spell was out of his mind and out of his hands almost before he knew what he had done and a bright red ball of energy struck the witch in the face, burning and searing. The witch screamed and faltered, losing her concentration. Her spell fizzled and died as she stumbled blindly forward, directly into the path of the bound assassin. Tied to the chair as he was, and with his ankles and wrists bound Dekaras still was able to pull his legs up and kick the woman aside. She fell into the arms of the two warriors, temporarily blocking their progress. Nevertheless, that probably would have been the end of the battle if it hadn't been for Poppy. The halfling had come to unnoticed by all and swiftly darted across the room, grabbed the key from the dead woman's pocket and unlocked the chains that bound her friend. Edwin took the opportunity to hide under the bench as the two assassins faced the two warriors. He had a feeling things were about to get rowdy.

Both of the berserkers made the fatal mistake of ignoring Poppy in favor of her taller friend. As they both rushed Dekaras the halfling silently charged, her head lowered. A small, but very hard halfling skull hitting you in a sensitive area is enough to make a grown man drop whimpering to the floor, where Poppy promptly bit him in the leg and snatched a dagger from his belt, after which she proceeded to jerk his head up by the hair and cut his throat. 

Dekaras meanwhile had sidestepped the second attacker, whose violent charge carried him straight across the room and into the wall, headfirst. He didn't have a chance to stop. That by itself wasn't enough to break his neck, but the blow he received immediately afterwards was. 

The surviving witch vainly tried to get into a sitting position. Her face was a burnt ruin, charred and broken. "Please…", she said. "Please…"

"Poppy", Dekaras said, his face impassive. "Get the boy out of here. I won't be long." 

As Edwin was forcibly pulled outside by a halfling whose face held no trace of dimples he heard the voice of his tutor behind him. "I am sorry", Dekaras said. "You fought bravely but you leave me no choice. I cannot afford to let you report back to Rasheman. I will have no other _wychlaran_ come after me here. If it is any comfort, I will make it a much swifter end than the spell you were about to try on me would have been."

"Please", the woman said. "My…my little Dynaheir. There is a child back home who needs me."

"Then", the assassin said in an almost inaudible whisper, "we do have something in common after all. Who would have thought that, _wychlaran_?" As promised, the witch died quickly. 

They went back to the Ravens Nest at first. Even the adults thought a short rest seemed in order before returning to the Inner City. As for Edwin, he was extremely tired out and took great pleasure in his tutor carrying him. Despite or perhaps because of everything he fell asleep on the way and only awoke when he was placed on Poppy's bed. Dekaras sat down on the floor next to it, muttering something about halflings living in holes as cramped as their skulls and too small to stand up straight in. 

"Just the right size for normal-sized people, Dekkie", Poppy said with the ghost of her normal happy smile on her lips. She busied herself with putting on another kettle of tea. "Just the right size. So, are you going to tell me what happened in there or what? One minute I'm unconscious and having a really nice dream about horses and butterflies and the next there's this screaming witch falling down dead without anyone even touching her. Now, I know you're good at what you do, but killing people simply by looking at them seems way too creepy."

"That wasn't exactly what happened", Dekaras said, his attention fixed on some point far off in the distance, ignoring even the irreverent nickname. "I don't know how much either of you heard or for that matter understood, and not all of it is relevant. It was all long ago. But to sum things up, I had good reason to hate that witch, more than I hate any other Rashemani witch. She tried to use me for her own purposes. She robbed me of what was mine. Since I was only a few years older than our young friend here I have spent the last few minutes every time I'm going to sleep trying to think up a new, more inventive and more painful way of killing her than the last one. That is quite a lot of nasty ways of dying and I have a vivid imagination. The _Othlor_ was a powerful diviner and thought nothing about trying to use her magic to probe my mind. But in her eagerness, she ignored the fact that for every action there is a reaction."

He shrugged. "In opening oneself up to another person's thoughts one cannot help but make oneself a little open to them as well. Had I still been a wizard she would have put up safeguards. As it was, she thought she could safely ignore that, and that was her mistake. When she entered my mind my every reason for hating her and every way I ever thought of killing her came back to me and she felt them all. And since I was, after all, once trained to use my mind to shape reality she literally felt them all, one after the other. The pain must have been excruciating. It wasn't a spell exactly, but the effect of it was enough to give her a nasty shock too great for her heart to handle. A very interesting thing and very fortunate. I had no way of knowing it would work, and even if I do hate depending on luck, I suppose I shouldn't complain." He turned to see if Edwin was awake. "Good reflexes back there, boy", he said a little sadly. "The Magic Missile can be a very useful spell."

"I - I killed her, didn't I?", Edwin said, his voice shaking.

"No. She was alive when you left. You must remember that."

"But…but I hurt her all the same. I mean, I know I had to. She was bad. Those witches all are for what they did to you, and when I grow up, I want to get them back. But I hurt her really badly and the way she looked…" He choked back a sob and when he felt his teacher put his arms around him, he couldn't hold back the ones that followed.

"I know", the assassin said. "Believe me, I know. It will get better. I promise."

The boy cried himself out before settling down on the bed. As he closed his eyes, he felt the blanket tucked around him. "Stay with me before I sleep?" he asked in a small voice.

"Of course", the answer was. "Of course I will. You've proven very adept at getting yourself into trouble. I should think we both deserve the comfort of knowing exactly what you are doing for once. Now go to sleep."

It was a few hours later that they returned to the Odesseiron Mansion after an uneventful walk through the city. Edwin held his teacher's hand a little tighter as they passed through the gate, nervous about his Mother's imminent reaction. Poppy had wisely remained behind, saying something about wizards not being all that subtle when they got angry and preferring to be a halfling rather than a toad. As they passed through the garden Edwin felt some surprise at how ordinary it seemed, just as if nothing had ever happened. On one of the lawns his Mother was sitting in a chair, reading. Now and then she looked up and gave the statue in front of her a satisfied look.

"My baby!" she cried out as she spotted her son approaching. Edwin was chagrined to find himself publicly kissed and fussed over as his teacher watched with some amusement.

"Everything in order, I hope?" the assassin asked. "Did my friend's letter reach you?"

"Oh, yes", Elvira said in a dangerous voice. "It said: I have your son. He is unharmed and will be returned to you eventually. Await further instructions. A friend. Yes, that was very reassuring."

"Oh, Poppy", Dekaras sighed. "We really need to teach you a little proper turn of phrase."

"But at least he's safe", Elvira admitted, kissing her son again. "And…what of you? Is everything in order?"

"Yes", the assassin said with a satisfied smile. "The witch is dead, and the danger is past. Did anything interesting take place in my absence? What of Master Galen's painting?"

"Oh, he gave that up", Elvira said, pointing at the statue in front of her. "That's his new fling. It seems our son persuaded him to take up sculpture." The statue was a very lifelike portrayal of Galen Odesseiron, complete with a surprised look on his face. A pigeon also seemed to appreciate it as it landed on his head and relieved itself.

"That is very good", Dekaras said, raising an eyebrow. "I must admit to some surprise at his skill."

Elvira smiled. "Not so much his skill as mine", she said. "You see, when I learned about him stealing the stones of the bridge that the Tharchion's carriage was passing over I got a little upset. I'm afraid I told him that if he wanted to practice sculpture that badly I would be only too glad to help." She patted the statue affectionately. "I rather like him this way", she said. "Very restful and quiet. Still, I suppose I'll have to turn him back soon or his brother will fuss. Tomorrow. Or the day after. The next week at the very latest."


End file.
